


Mouth Problems

by palateens



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BPD Nursey, Borderline Personality Disorder, Gen, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 02:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palateens/pseuds/palateens
Summary: There’s a mile long list of things that could go wrong within the first week alone. Half of Derek’s list is just miscellaneous “mouth problems”.ORThe one where Nursey and Dex move into the Haus, and everything is not as bad as initially anticipated.





	Mouth Problems

**Author's Note:**

> originally prompted on tumblr:  
> Nursey doing “something new, hard, or nerve-wracking that leaves him thinking, ‘Huh, I think I just passed some sort of adulthood test.’”
> 
> I project a lot on Nursey so this is the story about how he's working through things and learning to trust himself (and others) just a little bit more.

Derek spends the summer dreading going back to Samwell. Not because he doesn’t love the classes, hockey, or his friends, but because he’s not ready to live with Dex. He can’t even keep a consistent opinion of fucking Dex. One minute he’s decent, the next a raging asshole, and sometimes—when the light in Faber bounces off the curve of his perfectly twitched lips just right and he’s chirping Derek about something inconsequential—it feels like Dex is could be so much more. 

There’s a mile long list of things that could go wrong within the first week alone. There’s things like how he gets a little too comfortable with clutter (because it means he belongs somewhere and can’t be gotten rid of anytime soon). Then there’s how he uses classical music to fall asleep; which wasn’t a problem living in suite style dorms. But William Jacob “turn that down” Poindexter probably won’t stand for it. Half of Derek’s list is just miscellaneous “mouth problems”. Problems number one through ten—shit Dex says that makes Derek want to duct tape his mouth shut. Problems number ten through infinity—shit Dex does with his mouth that makes Derek want that mouth all over him.   

It’s an ironic conundrum, at least it is from where he’s standing.

Derek’s therapist has been encouraging him to journal about his emotions, so he can be more mindful about when he’s upset and why. Most of the time, however, his journaling turns into free verse rambling about things he thinks shouldn’t matter and upset him that he cares so much. 

He moves in a few days before Dex gets there. He figures if he can get his shit unpacked and arranged quickly enough, that’s one less argument he and Dex will have. 

**Nursey (2:43 pm):** top or bottom?

**Dex (2:57 pm):** neither?? both? why????  

**Nursey (2:59pm):** [tear smiling emoji] dude, what do you think I was asking

**Dex (3:05pm):** you meant which bunk do I want 

**Nursey (3:06pm):** that I did, poindexter 

**Dex (3:10pm):** this conversation never happened 

**Dex (3:11pm):** bottom 

**Nursey (3:12pm):** [thumbs up emoji, laughing emoji, kiss wink emoji] 

**Dex (3:14pm):** [middle finger emoji] 

_/.\\_ 

Derek has the room relatively clean and squared away by the time Dex show’s up with his pickup truck full of boxes. He considers climbing out of bed and offering to help when he hears the engine outside cut off, but it’s not like he had any help unpacking. He briefly considers flashing Dex his dick as he hears someone coming up the stairs. He decides against it since that would be too much effort for how much he wants to savor a lazy day in before the Haus (and the season, and the year) gets too loud and hectic. Derek is immediately satisfied by his decision when a guy half a foot shorter than Dex with brown hair and poindexter-like freckles comes through the door carrying two boxes. 

“Hey,” the guy says. “Nursey, right? Heard  _ a lot _ about you.”

“Yea the one and only,” he says, “and you are?”

“Dylan,” Dex shouts behind them, carrying two boxes and his hockey bag on his back. “I swear if you—” He stops when he sees Derek. Dex’s ears visibly redden. 

Derek waves casually to hold back a laugh. “‘Sup, Poindexter?”  

Dex glares at Dylan. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing,” Dylan says with his hands raised. “Jesus, give me some credit. I’m not gonna talk about you behind your back to your liney.” 

Dex grumbles as he sets boxes down in front of his bed. He mentions something about grabbing more shit from the truck. He leaves, Dylan flashing Derek a mischievous grin and holding a finger up as the listen for the sound of Dex going down the stairs. 

“He sleeps with a stuffed animal,” Dylan whisper shouts. “He’ll tell you he hates country, but he  _ loves  _ hipster folk music.And what’s the fucking difference? The fucker pretends he doesn’t fart, but wow is he putrid. Avoid if he’s eaten Mexican food at all costs.” 

Derek crinkles his nose as he cracks up. “Duly noted, thanks.”

“No problem,” Dylan says with a smirk.

“You’re his brother right?”

Dylan shrugs, “one of them.”

“How many does he have?”

“Two.” 

Derek snorts. “You guys get along pretty well?”

“Most of the time,” he admits. “Listen, I know he’s a dick—”

“Understatement,” Derek chirps. 

“Preaching to the choir,” he says with a huff. “But he’s a good kid. Just—don’t be afraid to tell him that he’s letting his anxiety get the best of him.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Literally been doing that for years.” 

“Sweet,” Dylan says with a small smirk. “He does talk a lot about you.”

“Anything good?” he dares to ask. 

“Nowadays yea,” Dylan says with an eye roll. “It’s a little obvious.”

Derek gapes a little bit. “Really?”

“Yea, it used to be ‘Nursey did this’ and ‘fucking Nursey said that’. But the entire fucking summer it’s been ‘Nursey would like this’ or ‘you know Nursey was telling me’ or ‘you know who’s really good at that? Nursey’.” 

“Wow,” Derek says, dumbfounded. “Good to know.” 

Objectively, Derek knows Dex isn’t nearly as bad as he used to be. His idea of being an asshole nowadays is turning up his shitty dad rock too loud or stretching out Derek’s favorite snapbacks with his bulbous head. Still, it’s easy to forget that Dex is capable of being a decent human being when he spent so much of their early interactions trying to outrank Derek in the pain olympics. Dylan, however, seems different. Like everything Derek thinks he sees in Dex when things get quiet and they float together in a peaceful stasis. 

“Here, I’m hopping down,” Derek tells him. He climbs down the ladder, asking, “you want something to drink or something?” 

“Sure, got any Natty?” 

“Gross, I’ve got better beer in the basement if you want.” 

“I thought frat houses only had piss beer,” Dylan chirps with a grin. 

“You wound me, sir,” Derek says with feigned indignance. “Our asses are way better than a mere frat.” 

“Alright, color me impressed.” 

_/.\\_ 

“So your brother’s nice,” Derek says at dinner the next day. 

Ollie and Wicks have been moving in for the last hour or so. The Haus is steadily getting more populated. For as much as Derek likes some time to himself, he’s glad to have the company. He’d probably go stir crazy living all by himself. His therapist mentioned working on his independence, but he’s pretty functional at the moment so it doesn’t feel like an immediate issue. It’s another year or so until he’ll have to start over somewhere anyway. Well, assuming he doesn’t do something impulsive like drop out of college for a while. But he’s been good. He likes the life he’s living and the hard days haven’t as bad lately. 

“Yea, he’s a good guy,” Dex says not looking up from his plate. “He’s my favorite sibling.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to have favorites,” Derek chirps. 

“Yea, well,” he grumbles. “We’ve been through a lot together.” 

“Cool,” Derek says with a hum. “So what’s his deal?”

Dex flinches. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” His voice get quiet as glares at his food. 

“Chill, Dex, I was just asking if he was taken or straight or whatever.” 

“Oh.” His shoulders relax, just the tiniest amount. “No.”

“To which?”

“Both.”

“Swawesome,” Derek says as casually as possible. He’s already trying to come up with something new to talk about.

Dex grips his fork until his knuckles turn white. He shovels so much food in his mouth that Derek’s surprised he can fit it all. Yet another thing to add to the list of mouth problem. Dex excuses himself, all but throwing his plate into the sink. He rushes up the stairs. Part of Derek wants to try to fix something, whatever it is that just freaked the fuck out of Dex. But then again, Dex’s mood shift did nothing but agitate him. 

Derek sighs, grabbing his journal and earbuds out of his back pocket. He blasts some music while coming up with eight different metaphors for incendiary encounters. Dex is ice and Derek’s veins are lava. Every touch jolts Derek out of his molten stasis, sparking him to life. He shakes his head, scratching the line out. He writes about swirling waves and midnight suns, about frostbite so cold it feels like feathering flames. He ends up with a saga about unstoppable forces and immovable objects. 

Dex comes back down a while later. He taps Derek’s shoulder so he can pause his music. He sits across from Derek stiffly, hands clenched in front of him. Derek wonders what he’s going to do, or say. He takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for yet another shitty argument.

“Dylan’s trans,” Dex says finally. 

Which, is the last thing Derek expected him to say. 

“He started taking T after my dad left, but he’s been out since I was eleven.” 

“Ok,” Derek responds cautiously.   

“I couldn’t just  _ out _ him to you without checking with him first,” he says, licking his lips. “So I called and asked.” 

Derek leans back in his seat, baffled. “Ok, but you didn’t  _ have _ to if that’s what’s bugging you. But I’m not a raging transphobe, I swear.” 

“Yea I know,” Dex admits. “And I want to tell you about this. Just like I want to tell you about all this other shit.”

“Like what?”

“Like how he was transitioning right when I started school here,” he says. “And how I didn’t deal with it well. So I was a fucking dick to the guy who always stuck up for me growing up, and made sure my dad’s toxic bullshit didn’t get to me that much.” 

Dex clears his throat. “And how I spent fucking years hiding so far in the closet that I took it out on the first cute guy I saw. And I can apologize for the rest of my fucking life if it helps. But it was shitty and I need to do better.”

“Who?”

Dex looks up, his eyes swirling with earnesty and something like fear. “You.”

“Oh,” Derek says quietly. 

“Yea…”

Derek thinks about coma movies briefly. About how characters will have out of body experiences where they’re detached from their physical selves and see their lives from a new perspective. He sees a gangly freshman lashing out at everyone, like a hurt and confused kid. He sees a guy who stumbles more than anything, but keeps getting back up. It doesn’t make any of it ok, or even less shitty. But he thinks, maybe he could really talk to the guy in front of him; the one who’s ready to be vulnerable and honest. 

“So you think I’m cute huh?” 

Dex blushes, and Derek can make out the tiniest glint of a smile. “Shut up, Nurse.”

“Make me, Poindexter,” he says while waggling his eyebrows. 

Dex laughs a little too easily. Derek, for his part, sighs contently. He thinks about sparks as a natural occurrence when two forces create friction. His eyes look like cooling lava more than hot embers lately. Maybe that’s the pain of growing up, accepting that life happens one way or another and figuring out how to adjust. 

“I’ll do the dishes if you find something decent to watch,” Dex offers. 

Derek snorts. “You’d hate anything I choose.”

“I won’t,” he says softly. “I promise.”

Something about the way his tongue hangs on the word ‘promise’ makes Derek inclined to believe him. Then again, maybe it’s just another mouth problem. 

**Author's Note:**

> fic title (self explanitory) but please check out Low Life by X Ambassadors if you're looking for a good companion for this fic


End file.
